Verdan: "I actually wanted to say that too. Anyway, even if you take a hit now, you can still survive with a sliver of health."
Inside the game, Wayne—who couldn't afford a single mistake—had no way of taking off his VR headset to reply to them. Amidst the Crimson Fatalis's near-frenzied assault, he simply shouted directly within the game:
"You two are dreaming! At this stage, it doesn't matter what gear you're wearing; if you get touched, you're one-shotted!"
Hicks rolled his eyes: "Are you stupid? Equipment has attribute bonuses."
Hicks continued: "Stop talking. Once Wayne finishes, the two of us will start a round and see who dies first. Want to bet?"
Reanier was watching tensely and didn't want to be disturbed by their mindless bickering. He turned around and glared at them, and the two immediately fell silent.
Outside the net cafe, the crowd was in an absolute uproar. The outdoor screen had only been up for a few days, and they had never experienced the audio of a player being broadcasted outside before. Wayne's sudden shout didn't just startle those nearby; it made them as excited as if they had discovered a new continent.
"Miller! Can you hear me talking?"
"Little Wayne, it's me! Can you recognize my voice?"
Many people began talking toward the screen.
Others began to research the meaning of the word "one-shot"from his sentence. In the world Wayne came from, the meaning of "one-shot" was common knowledge, but in Azeroth, among the people of World of Warcraft, no one had ever heard such an expression.
Spectator A: "Do you think this 'one-shot' is some kind of spell?"
Spectator B: "Maybe it's one of that evil dragon's offensive skills?"
Spectator C: "No, the boss said that 'one-shot' is triggered if you aren't wearing gear. It must be a status effect."
Spectator D: "You're all wrong. This is actually Draconic."
The crowd around him: "Draconic?"
Facing the attentive crowd, Spectator D tilted his head back proudly: "Look, although the battle in that black frame is unlike anything we've seen, at least we can understand the fire-breathing, the falling rocks, the head, and the claws."
"But this 'one-shot' is the only thing we don't understand. And the boss said it's triggered after being touched by the dragon. Therefore, I believe it's a word in Draconic that represents the dragon's ultimate killing move."
The crowd: "That actually sounds plausible..."
Spectator A: "Then how does this net cafe owner know that word?"
Spectator D clearly didn't expect such a tricky question. He froze for a moment but quickly covered: "He must understand Draconic! Look at how he predicts the dragon's attacks almost every time; he's hearing it from the dragon's roars. Otherwise, who would dare to slay a dragon single-handedly?"
The crowd looked at the screen, then at this man who was spraying saliva everywhere. While they didn't entirely believe him, they couldn't find a more reliable explanation.
Just as they snapped back to the screen, they saw the Crimson Fatalis suddenly turn away from the scorched earth and charge straight toward the rolling lava, landing on a glowing red rock within the magma.
It let out a long draconic roar, venting all its fury. Then its wings began to flap violently. The lava beneath was swept up by the rising winds, forming several fire whirlwinds that lunged toward Wayne!
Dodge, dodge, and dodge. Dodge without stopping for a moment, charging forward without even looking back.
After several gusts covered the entire scorched field, the Crimson Fatalis roared again. From the ground where the fire whirlwinds had passed, serpentine twists of flame energy erupted!
This was the Crimson Fatalis's ultimate move—Flame Wings and Blazing Dance!
Left, right, left again, then right. Faced with the eruptions of fire coming from the ground in continuous waves, Wayne could no longer dodge just by running. He had to use the faster evade roll for every single hit. At the same time, he had to maintain the correct distance and direction during the roll, because he needed to be just far enough from the next wave of fire following him to immediately perform the next horizontal roll once the recovery frames of his standing animation ended.
Not a single mistake was allowed. One error meant the end.
The room was deathly silent. No one was playing games anymore. Even Tess clenched her tiny fists, watching her boss enter the final duel with the Crimson Fatalis.
The large crowd outside let out a soft "Ooh!" of cheer every time Wayne successfully evaded a flame, as if the Black Dragon on the screen truly was an evil dragon about to destroy the world, and the hero Wayne before them was saving the world in its hour of peril.
Six consecutive flames struck, and Wayne dodged every single one. The Crimson Fatalis flew back to the scorched earth, but upon landing, it seemed to have exhausted its energy, collapsing limply on the ground.
The few in the room who had played Monster Hunter many times understood that this was a damage-output compensation mechanism in the game. After a boss performs a sequence of ultimate moves, there is always a long recovery period provided as a reward for the player who successfully dodged.
Wayne quickly set down his last two Large Barrel Bomb Gs and six Clust shots, delivering a final, extreme burst of explosive damage to the dragon's head, which already had a broken horn.
After a violent explosion, a line of text suddenly popped up on the screen!
[Returning to the Gathering Hall in 90 seconds]
The thick smoke from the explosion still lingered before everyone's eyes, and they didn't react immediately to the text.
Then, after a very brief moment of silence, cheers of "OHHHHHH!!!" erupted simultaneously inside and outside the building!
"My god... he actually did it!!!"
"Solo dragon slaying! And under a volcano at that!"
"Is that kind of fire something a mortal can dodge? Incredible..."
"Holy... Miller is a legend!"
Wayne quickly shouted: "Wait, wait! Stop shaking me or my glasses will fall off! I still need to carve the materials!"
Spectator D once again asserted his presence in the crowd: "See? I told you. Those two roars the dragon gave before its final move were definitely in Draconic. It was using Draconic to mobilize the underground fire energy, just like a mage chanting a spell. The boss heard it and knew exactly where to dodge."
The crowd had just witnessed an extraordinary victory of a mortal slaying a dragon. Everyone was immersed in excitement. When Spectator D said this, they all felt it made perfect sense.
A heated discussion followed:
"I didn't expect such a master to be in Goldshire—someone who understands Draconic and can slay dragons... unbelievable..."
"Masters are found among the common folk. Before those big figures became famous, weren't they scattered among the people?"
"Exactly! Not to mention the talented Alliance; I heard the Warchief of the Horde, that brutal green-skinned orc, was just a slave gladiator raised by humans before he became famous."
"True. But few can be like Arthas. When he was born, it was as if the very forests of Lordaeron whispered his name. Everyone knew him, the whole kingdom celebrated. He was truly born with a silver spoon..."
"Pah! Bad luck! Why bring up that cursed demon lord out of nowhere?"
"Right, right. Let's not mention him. Bad luck, bad luck!"
Inside, after Wayne finished carving the materials and was teleported back to the hall, he immediately exited the game and took off his headset.
"Soloing is too exhausting... I need a break. You guys continue... continue..."
He rubbed his eyes and tried to walk out, but Tess stopped him with a hidden, fleeting glance.
Wayne seemed to remember something and nodded. He took a bottle of ice-cold Cola and sat behind the counter to rest, giving his station to the first player on the waiting list.
The outdoor broadcast switched back to the Saint Seiya episode the quartet had been watching earlier, and the crowd gradually dispersed.
Tess walked out of the net cafe to a secluded spot in the nearby woods. Spectator D, who had been spreading the rumor about Wayne knowing Draconic, was already waiting there, looking expectant.
Tess took a gold coin from her pocket and waved it before him but didn't put it in his hand.
That's right—this man was a traveling merchant who roamed Redridge Mountains, Elwynn Forest, and occasionally Westfall. Due to the recent military actions from Northshire toward the Eastvale Logging Camp and gnoll ambushes, he had been hiding in Lakeshire for a long time. He only dared to return after hearing that Northshire's campaign was a total victory. However, due to his lazy work ethic, he was already penniless.
Pirelli said in a slightly slick tone: "It is my honor to serve you and Boss Wayne."
Despite being slick, worldly, full of lies, and greedy, it had to be mentioned that this 40-year-old fox was quite handsome—the kind of charming, rugged uncle with a bit of a rogue vibe.
His thick mustache was neatly trimmed, his black hair with streaks of gray was well-groomed, and a stylish lock of hair hung naturally over his right forehead. He looked a bit like the Archmage Andromath, but with less academic prestige and more street smarts.
He wore a refined red leather vest over a clean white shirt, paired with durable jeans and maroon riding boots. If you didn't know better, you'd think he was a noble rather than a traveling trader.
One could guess that he used this outfit to trick many passersby into buying his overpriced low-level goods.
He elegantly extended his right hand, as if he weren't asking for money but accepting a rose from a fan.
Tess was only 12 and didn't fall for his "charming uncle" act at all; in fact, she looked even more disgusted.
"You saw it yourself. My boss can slay dragons. If you speak a word of our arrangement, not only will our cooperation end, but you won't like the consequences."
Antonio's eye twitched, but his expression remained cool and calm: "My respected young lady, no one turns their back on money, and certainly not on a rare partner like yourself."
"Please rest assured. I will spread Boss Wayne's divine skills across all of Azeroth. Consider it a complimentary service; I won't charge you anything extra."
Tess nodded disdainfully and finally placed the coin in his hand.
Inside the building, Wayne's ears had already heard the electronic notification from the "vending machine" regarding the completion of Monster Hunter G and the unlocking of a new game. He waited for the crowd outside to disperse before leaving the net cafe and returning to his room. He carefully locked the door, opened the cellar, and climbed down.
Outside, the sun was setting and the moon was rising. In the cellar, his heart was blooming with joy and surging with excitement!
He looked at the words on the screen, hardly believing his eyes!
The game currently being unlocked was his favorite single-player RPG from before his transmigration—perhaps even his absolute favorite!
Whether in terms of depth of plot, size of the map, number of characters, or breadth of factions, this RPG was a monument in the gaming world. But what truly pushed it to the throne of a god-tier masterpiece was its unrivaled freedom and the MODs that could forever add new content and gameplay!
That's right, the line of text on the screen was:
[The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim - Virtual Enhanced Remastered Collectors Ultra Giga Pro Max Edition Unlocked! Happy 100th year anniversary!]